Carl felt as if someone was watching him intently, and trying to ignore his feeling of discomfort, he stifled the shudder that welled up in him to sit like a prickly collar about his neck. But at a delicate gasp from over his shoulder, the hobbit looked up from his work to find a young girl stationed nearby him, looking wide eyed at the rough sketch in his hand.

“Do you know Granny’s brothers than?” She asked as she crouched down next to him, without the least sign of hesitation. “Did they send you with a message for her?” She looked him in the eye with such honest, childlike curiosity; it struck Carl almost as refreshing as the words that she spoke.

Meeting her inquisitive glance with enthusiasm, he turned his full attention to her, as he whispered. “Well young Miss, if you aren’t just the person I was hoping to meet!” And not wishing to unduly disturb the thoughtful conversation around him, he added quickly. “I don’t reckon I know if we have been carrying a message for her or not, but we may have seeing as you know this drawing. I would very much like to meet this Granny of yours after we are done here, if you’d be kind enough to let her know as much.”

The fair-hair girl opened her mouth to speak, but she was quickly silenced by an older woman, who walking up, laid her hand on the girl’s shoulder, apologizing. But before the hobbit had the chance to set this matron’s mind at ease, and admit his utter delight in the child’s line of questioning, the two were called away by another. And they quietly slipped away.

Granny Brenna, the woman had called. Granny? Carl thought making the connection belatedly. He raised a finger behind the retreating figures as though about to call them back, but thinking better of it, he put the rock safely in his pocket and tried to concentrate on the matter at hand.